


Nine Aeryn Ficlets

by A_Damned_Scientist



Category: Farscape
Genre: Challenge Response, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 05:07:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2953490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Damned_Scientist/pseuds/A_Damned_Scientist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nine snapshots of Aeryn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nine Aeryn Ficlets

**Author's Note:**

> Nine Farscape fics written to fulfil a ‘Bingo Square’ for TVU challenge 613. Thanks, Erinm and Bizarra for the prompts.
> 
> I was sorely tempted to do Braca, but I thought I’d be the only person reading my entry if I did. So, more conventionally, I chose Aeryn:
> 
> Farscape isn’t mine, no money is being made here
> 
> Spoilers throughout, presented in roughly chronological order.

**First Person**  
  
My name is Aeryn Sun, a former Peacekeeper officer. Four years ago I met a strangely interesting alien and consequently got declared Irreversibly Contaminated by my commanding officer. I had to choose between my then inevitable execution and fleeing aboard a living ship of escaped prisoners, who subsequently became my friends. I've made enemies. Powerful. Dangerous. Many of them, including my own mother, are now dead, and many of them are dead at my own hands. But I also now have a home and a family, both of which would have been impossible for a Peacekeeper and both of which are wonderful to me.  
  
 **Pre-Series: Picking Rolliss Buds**  
  
Chiana, from episode 204, The Way We Weren’t:  _“What have you guys been thinking all this time? What? She was out picking baskets of rolliss buds while all the other mean Peacekeepers did all the really nasty stuff?”_  
  
Aeryn never let her guard down once as she picked her way through the piles of rubble and around numerous bodies as she made her way back to the Command Post. She felt a swell of pride at how thoroughly and speedily the Pliesar regiment was subjugating the mutinous mining colony of Traska Two. There was bound to be a commendation in it for the whole unit when they finished this tour and returned to the command carrier.   
  
As Aeryn drew closer to the Command Post she caught sight of Senior Officer Tauvo Crais. Everyone knew he was Captain Crais’ younger brother, and everyone knew it was wise to keep on his good side.  
  
“Sun!” Crais beckoned her over. Frell. What now? All she wanted was to have something to eat and drink and put her feet up. Still, he was the captain’s brother. Best find out what he wanted. She sighed inwardly and stomped over to him.  
  
“What do you want? I’ve had…”  
  
“Orders from the carrier. We’ve been told to collect some of the local vegetation,” he thrust something that looked very much like a large ornamental basket towards her. “And I’m delegating the job to you.”  
  
“What the frell?” Aeryn began to protest. “I ought to be with my unit when we assault…”    
  
“Not going to happen,” Crais shook his head. “Apparently there’s some sort of herbalist in the bunch of prisoners we took this morning. Science-military are very excited, but you’ve gotta have herbs to be a herbalist. So…”  
  
“But I don’t know the first frelling thing about…”  
  
“Who does?” Crais cut her off again. “You’ve got till we finish the assault. Just fill the basket with flowers, yes?” And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving her fuming.  
  
 **One True Pairing**  
  
Even in those first difficult days, after the escape, there was something between Aeryn and myself. A frisson, an understanding. An attraction. Call it what you like, but she was undoubtedly interested in me. Later, as our friendship grew, I couldn’t help but notice how often she found excuses to spend time with me. I like to think we have grown closer than any two people aboard Moya. We think alike, we like the same things. We really like each other. Being different species than each other has always a barrier, though, at least in her mind. I have long been able to see past that she is a Sebacean. I only hope that one day she can see past that I am a Pilot.  
  
 **Free**  
  
All of her ties were now severed, or at least all of her ties to everyone who had ever mattered to her. She had long been an outcast from the Peacekeepers. But now the command carrier where she had lived most of her life was gone, too: destroyed. Her mother and father and lover were all dead. Velorek, Zhaan, Henta, Talyn and Crais,too. Her remaining friends she had abandoned, including the man who wore John’s face and spoke with his voice. She was totally free now to do whatever she chose.  
  
And so she had freely chosen to become an assassin, just like her mother had been. Just like her mother had been forced to become.  
Why then, she wondered, did her freedom taste so bitter?  
  
 **My Diary By Pwinceth Aewyn**  
  
Dear Diary  
  
Today I met the most handfomeft of men. He pawaded awound my boudoir, gwipping his big, ftiff fword in hif stwong, manly hand. He was fpeaking such wordf of wifdom that could not fail to make a girl fwoon. I pwayed he would take me away from my beaft of a husband. Or failing that, juft fimply take me there and then, but fomehow he wefifted. Fuch a gentleman. A good man like that ith hard to find. Much like a hard man ith good to find.  
  
Tomowoe I pway he may weturn: If he doth I am wesolved to have him kiff me. When he doth, we are going to be tho, tho happy together, I juft know it.  
  
So, deawest diary, now I shall fleep, to dweam of my noble knight and of how he will cawwy me away to his caftle made of sand.  
  
Your ever fabulous  
  
Pwinceth  
  
 **The Day Off**  
  
As Aeryn stretched herself awake her memory returned to her: Today she had Moya all to herself. All of the others were off-ship, running errands of various sorts. That meant that she had the whole day to do as she pleased.  
  
Aeryn leapt from bed and into the shower, determined not to waste a single glorious macrot of her day off. She began to organise a mental checklist of what she would do: She would start with an arn in the gym, before first meal. Then she could polish her boots, clean and press her clothing, clean her guns. That would take her up to second meal. After that, an afternoon checking and tidying the armoury beckoned, which would take her up to third meal. Lastly, an evening flight, checking all systems on her Prowler were functional, would get her in the mood for bed. Aeryn so loved her days off, away from her over-talkative and chaotic shipmates: Days off were so wonderfully relaxing!    
  
 **Acrostic**  
  
Aeryn had always struggled to understand much of what John said. Earth sayings were often cryptic in the extreme. Returning to Earth with him had enabled her to gather many insights, though. You needed to mix up lines from movies, songs and other famous works of popular culture. Now she knew how it was done she resolved to turn the tables on him.  
  
She soon developed a plan to catch him out, to play him at his own game, waiting for a moment when he was trying to pick an argument with her. Usually he would never expect her to get one up on him in an argument, but this time he had no come-back to her words: “Never argue with an idiot, he’ll bring me down to his level and beat me with experience.”  
  
 **Flashback**  
  
When John returned from his trip down the wormhole and his visit to Einstein he was sporting a bleeding cut above his eyebrow. Aeryn’s heart almost stopped in horror and pain when she saw him. The sight took her back nearly three cycles to a time when there had been two John Crichtons in the universe. And one of them had sported a cut just like that over his eye: the other John Crichton, the one who had been her lover on Talyn. The one who had died of radiation poisoning in her arms.  
  
She pushed the angst away: she couldn’t let this John see, couldn’t let him know her thoughts. But she could not forget the other John and how he had died wielding a wormhole weapon and she would not allow this John to meet the same fate.  
  
 **The Future**  
  
Aeryn gently relieved D’Argo, her eldest son of the Chakan oil cartridges that he had been holding and then encouraged him to sit beside his little sister, Joolie at the small workbench in their family quarters.  
  
“Not like that,” she explained to them for the fourth time, demonstrating what she was teaching them with slow, exaggerated movements. “Tape the cartridges together first, before you cross-couple the contacts. That way you get the biggest explosive force…”  
  
“Honey?” Her comms crackled to life with her husband John’s voice. “You got the rugrats with you?”  
  
“Affirmative, John,” she replied, pausing in her demonstration to answer his call.  
  
“Watcha all up to?”  
  
“Oh nothing much, just some arts and crafts,” she replied nonchalantly, trying her best to sound as though she wasn’t teaching the kids how to blow things up.  
  
“Frell!” John exclaimed, evidently realising exactly what she was up to. “Hold tight! I’ll be right over!”   
  
  
The end


End file.
